


The Party of The First Part

by Huggle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spnkink_meme, D/s, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 19:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5677144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huggle/pseuds/Huggle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley likes to do things the old fashioned way, especially when it comes to making a deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Party of The First Part

Oh, he was playing with fire here and he knew it, but he was the King of Hell after all.

He rarely had to worry about getting burned.

Still, this was as close as he’d come to it since that absolute farce of a deal with Castiel – and if those Winchesters thought him enough of an idiot not to know they were hiding the treacherous little bastard? Well, more fool them for thinking more fool him.

He was looking forward to seeing them get their faces eaten off, and the angelic whore’s feathers sticking out of some Leviathan’s gob.

That said, there was a way these things were supposed to go; a signed contract was all very well – and until today Crowley thought he had the market corned on anal attention to detail – but he was a traditionalist at heart.

And sometimes a signature by itself could be less than binding. 

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Dick stared at him, casually interested, as the last of his lawyers filtered out. “Like giving your bed partners a vial of the wrong blood?”

“Ah, there’s time for that,” Crowley said. With the overhead demon’s trap turned off, he was able to join the head Leviathan at the bar and pour himself a whiskey. “Once we properly consummate our little deal.”

Dick wasn’t even looking at him anymore, nose almost turned up as if he could smell something unpleasant. “I told you. I don’t kiss. You have the contract, and it’s one of the best business negotiations I’ve participated in. You need to modernise, Crowley. Nobody trades spit during a hostile takeover.”

Crowley sipped his drink, and did a little nose curling of his own. He’d have expected the chief chomper to keep a better cellar, as it were, and he grimaced at the overburn. It was like drinking tangy piss compared to the gentler, sophisticated heat of his usual tipple. 

But it gave him an excuse to get close to Roman, and that was the point.

“Let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater,” he said. “There’s a reason we do things this way, and not just because that’s how we have done for centuries now.”

Roman smirked at him, but Crowley could see the hint of dagger teeth behind it. “I don’t care about your reasons, Crowley. We already have our deal.”

“Ah, but do we?” Crowley set down the glass. “You have to admit, it’s not the best way to start a business relationship. First you’d rather swim in hot garbage than share a planet with me.”

Roman poured himself another drink. “I don’t think the word sharing is an accurate representation of our agreement.”

Noted, Crowley thought. But instead of protesting, he bypassed that one for now at least. “And then you use a devil trap on me while we’re supposed to be having a serious business discussion.”

“It was serious,” Roman said. The smile was back, all teeth even if none were on show. “You have no idea how close you came to being a snack between meals. The only reason you’re _you_ and not _us_ is because the Winchesters are by far more annoying. Though I will give them this: they’ve played a good game.”

“Yes, well, they always do.” Crowley moved to stand in front of Roman. The first true monster to roam the Earth he might well be, but from what Crowley had seen he was maybe enjoying the human fringe benefits a little too much – and what he was about to try was really just that. Or so he was sure it would seem to Roman. “And they also tend to be the last pieces on the board. Just a friendly word of warning.”

He dropped to his knees, watching Roman’s face. He had that predatory look of interest again, one Crowley supposed could go either way. He doubted a few hundred feet of parchment with his John Hancock at the end would stop the bloody gobbler from downing him, probably in one go, like an oyster sliding down the hatch.

But not right now, since Roman did actually need him. He was the only person who could pull this off, lure those buggers in and see who got to top. Of course, he had a plan for whatever the outcome of that turned out to be, but in the meantime he still had a deal to properly finalise.

He cocked an eyebrow up at Roman and then slid his zipper down.

“What are you doing?” Roman asked. He even sounded curious, but the hint of threat was there.

“You said you didn’t kiss.”

“I do bite, though. And I definitely swallow. Everything.”

Crowley ignored the threat. With the demon trap switched off, he could be out of there in a split second and leave the arrogant bastard to snap his teeth on thin air. But that wouldn’t get him what he wanted, and it certainly wasn’t a relocation to Canada.

“Me too,” he said, as he slipped a hand into Roman’s pants. “Pardon the cold fingers, side effect of being a demon. Although, I only bite if I’m in that kind of relationship. You know, some people just love pain. Well.”

He freed Dick’s, well, dick, and looked up at Roman’s face. The original Dick Roman had been a very lucky boy, and Crowley knew he’d put his asset to good use; there was a rack in Hell with his name on it and not just because he was a bit of a bastard in the board room.

He’d been a bit of a bastard to the numerous employees he’d fucked and then silenced with bribes and threats too, and Crowley wondered if _this_ Dick had ever actually used the appendage he’d inherited.

Or if it even worked at all, or was just all for show, like the rest of the body. Just a cover.

He couldn’t tell from Roman’s face one way or the other. But now he seemed impatient, and he gave Crowley a look that suggested – whatever he was going to do – he’d better be moving things along.  
Crowley let his tongue peek out from between his lips, just to start them off, and nudged lightly at Roman’s slit. He was watching and listening for his cues, hoping even Leviathans had tells. That would prove useful here, since cum was as much use as spit when it came to the figurative dotted line, but also perhaps later because he doubted he’d be more than a minute out of this building before Roman was planning how to screw him over.

And then, cruelly, deprive him of Canada.

He became a little more adventurous then, running his tongue over the head and up the side, a little harder. Dick’s dick didn’t taste like other dicks, that was certain, and Crowley had had more of them in his mouth than he could really recall, but it didn’t exactly make him want to boak.

It was just…different. He set to it with fervour, then, once he was reasonably sure he wouldn’t look up to find a huge maw descending towards him. Kept the foreplay up a little longer, disappointed somewhat when he licked his way back to the tip of Roman’s cock to find there wasn’t even a drop of pre-cum. Also, vaguely offended, because he’d never not had a positive reaction at this stage from any of his former…clients.

“Admirable self-control,” he said, as he switched to taking Dick in hand, and pressing his thumb nail roughly into his slit. Maybe he preferred it a little less gentle. Maybe he’d like it if he got some Borax, gargled with it, and then tried again.

“Well, you’ve haven’t really done anything to test it yet,” Dick said. The fucker had poured himself another glass and was standing there sipping at it.

Crowley squeezed a little harder than he meant to, smiled an apology that he really didn’t mean, and then opened his mouth wide and wrapped his lips around Roman’s cock. He kept it steady with one hand, letting himself get up a good rhythm, hard and fast. He let his teeth graze across the skin on and off, just irregular enough to keep it unpredictable.

But it was like having a pound of raw sausage in his mouth; no matter what he did, it just lay there, flaccid and uninterested. Cursing himself silently, Crowley reached a hand up to fondle Roman’s balls through his pants. He was sure the bastard was playing with him. Leviathans had needs too, he was sure, and right now his need was Roman’s need, because he wasn’t leaving here until he had the _signature_ he wanted.

Which it was starting to look like he wasn’t going to get.

“You know, I can tell you’ve been doing this a long time,” Roman said, suddenly, and Crowley felt his temper spark at the double entendre, “but like I said, maybe you have to modernise. Sometimes the same tired old things don’t work.”

Crowley let Roman’s cock plop out of his mouth. “Tired old things.” He’d gotten popes to shoot their load down his throat, and if he could get past decades of ingrained Catholic doctrine, he was not going to be bested by Dick Roman and his erectile dysfunction.

“Mmm,” Dick murmured. “You want it so bad, Crowley, let me help you.”

Before Crowley could answer, Roman had hold of his head and was keeping in him position. “Open up.”

He did, and his mouth was suddenly full of the leviathan’s hard length, in so deep that it was just as well he no longer had a gag reflex.

Roman slid out a little, and then snapped his hips forward again hard and fast enough that Crowley though he was going for a through and through.

“See, this is better,” Dick crowed. “You must know a lot about power, Crowley.”

Crowley muffled out a yes, wincing a little as his cheek bulged. It might not seem like it right now, but of course power – King of Hell. Virtually hand in hand.

“Of course, you’ll have to get used to a lot less of it once Mr and Mr Winchester are no more, but that’s by the by. At least you’ll be alive…in a demonic fashion. But I think we both know the joy of having power over another, don’t we?”

Crowley managed a nod, restricted as it was by Roman’s hands on his head. He felt a little dizzy, not because his throat was near full of cock – wasn’t like he needed air – but because Dick must surely have done this before at some time.

He was too fucking good to be a novice.

“Like when you were corrupting poor Castiel? Oh, you enjoyed that, didn’t you? Reeling him in once the pressure on him got to just shy of breaking point. Almost his tainted knight in shining armour. Is this how you sealed your agreement with him? Whose dick ended up down whose throat there, I wonder?”

Crowley bit down a little, and heard Dick chuckle above him. Unfortunately, with Castiel it had been a straight forward kiss. Not even any tongue, just his own lips near chafed by Castiel’s dry ones, before the angel backed off and glared at him. 

He couldn’t ignore the stirring in his groin, all excitable suddenly at the combination of Dick Roman in his mouth and the taunting vision of Castiel being the one on his knees while Crowley made him take it.

“When we were all in him,” Roman continued, and Crowley managed a groan at the choice of words and their effect, “it wasn’t unlike this. Oh, he fought, struggled. But in the end, we were more than he was and really it wasn’t too hard to just hold him down and do what we wanted.

“You know the rest, of course.”

Not directly, but it didn’t take a genius to work it out. When they finally tracked the little prick down, Crowley wondered if he could be lumped in with Canada or whether Roman liked possessing Castiel so much he might decide to keep him.

Roman gave another hard thrust and then came in his mouth, hot and bitter. 

Crowley didn’t miss a damn drop.

He had to stay there for a moment, Dick’s hands still fastened around his face, until the Leviathan stepped back and put himself away.

“Happy now?” He picked up his glass and drained the contents.

Crowley got to his feet, pleased with himself in more ways than one. Fuck notaries, and triplicate paperwork. Sometimes the tired old things were how things got done.

“Well,” he started, but Roman turned his back to him.

“Good. Get out.”

Crowley feigned offence, and retreated. Let Dick bask in the afterglow. Have his moment.

He might not think it just now, but he’d find out soon enough that Crowley was going to have everything else.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an SPN Kink Meme prompt that asked for consensual oral sex between Crowley and another male character, preferably with Crowley on his knees.


End file.
